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I could hardly believe my eyes when I found the place. But the old colored housekeeper reassured me.

I hurriedly knocked at the studio door. There was a pause then half a dozen (no, not so many) hesitating "come in's." I opened the door, and faced some questioning faces. Every girl had dropped her work and stood stareing at me. What could I do but stand and stare too. I suddenly thought that I ought to say "Good-morning", and I said it and was answered by "good-mornings" from the other side.

Instead of helping me\any, the "good-morning" process left me as lost as ever, tho' the tones had as much as said, "well, what next?"

I determined what was "next," by, as I said, introducing myself. This consisted in handing them Miss Minnigerode's letter.

I remember that Miss Burns took it. After reading it, she looked up with a bright "Oh, she wants us to fix the baby's arm for you!" Then turning to the other girls she explained that I was a new student, introduced them to me, and in her own happy way proceeded to make me at home. There was the usual swishing about among the girls, hunting things and getting them arranged.

I gasped at one girl in utter amazement. It was Miss Grigsby. She had been back in a dark corner behind her easel – and she stepped forward it seemed